You need to breathe. You need to regroup. You need time.

You need space. This is space.

You need your house. You need your girls. You need you.

You need space. This is space.

We had Christmas Day. We had plans. We had each other.

But, you need space. This is space.

Space is falling. Space is drowning. Space is suffocating. Space is endless. Space is a vacuum.

But, you need space. This is space.

I’m giving you what you need. It’s yours. It cuts and it stabs and it becomes bigger in my chest every time your face or your voice or your smell or your taste enters my mind again, those sensations I will never experience again, those sensations which have been replaced by an enormous void.

With nothing but space.